Tyson

Oh boy it's been a long time.

Logged in after 5 years and amazed that this RP lasted so long. Some great writing

Ten unmade. We know the name of five for certainty Yelig-nar aka Blightwind Nergoul the Thrill Moelach the death rattles Dai-gonarthis aka Black fisher Re-shephir aka Midnight mother We also know that Yelig-nar is sentient and possibly the most poweful of the Unmade. He is able to consume his victims, but being largely restricted to the cognitive realm, there is a strong case that he consumes victims with hate - as IIRC WoB mentions that Szeth may be being influenced by something similar to a spren.

The plateu assualts where smash and grabs. Sorties. It was never the purpose to fight and win against the enemy. The goal was to get the gemheart with the least possible troops as possible and get the hell out of there. My guess is that when Alethi started to change to rules of the war and play more agressive, the second army of Parshendi where present only to prevent flanks and hold adjacent platues for a safe escape route.

Thinking about it, Sanderson's antagonists are one of his weak points. Thank being said, I like Nalizar and Taravangian.

Soulcast the crap out of everything like a drunk Dumbledore.

The danger of first person is that everything can become blow by blow. I done this...I done that...I feel this...I think that. You began to slide into that pattern as the prologue progressed. Strong opening, nicely paced and smooth transitions between action points. Good concept and a good first attempt. Just watch your sentence structure.

Not sure at the moment, so it's best to presume i'm gone for good. I'd love to stay but i'm juggling too many time consuming activities (soccer team, writing a novel, english literture degree, full time job) and my first child is due soon, so something has to give. You'd be surprised at how much time I spend reading these RPG threads and preparing my own posts lol. I'm trying to limit the amount of time I spend on the internet and hopefully put it into my novel instead. If anyone wants to write Gunsmoke or Malevolence you can. Twilight and Coma know their weaknesses.

Just logging on to let you guys know that I don't have much time at the moment to contribute to the Corvallis thread. If anyone wants to kill off my characters be my guest.

The question is why? Is fantasy unfashionable in your culture? Or is it a gap in the market? Your in a better position than me to answer those questions. Someone from the US has a very small chance of getting a publishing deal, so I would imagine your chances as a foreigner are even slimmer. So self publishing is the way to go. Lulu is a great self publishing tool. all you have to do is upload a book, along with cover etc. (there are packages available where they will proof read and design a cover but you have to pay). Once you've uploaded a book, you will be given an ISBN number. You are now offically published. https://www.lulu.com/ Now's the hard part. Marketing. You have to do this all yourself. As I said, you will know the Venezuelan market much better than me. Your country has a population of 33m. Half of the UK. Although it sounds alot, it really isn't on a marketing scale. Lulu is a print per order service. Each time someone purchases the book from Amazon, LuLu will print and ship a copy of the book. You will then recieve some percentage of royalties. They also do a Kindle version, but I would recommend using Amazon's own service for Kindle, you get more of the profits. All you have to think about is where you need to promote the book. Do you have a chain of bookstores, or indivudally run book stores who will make an order? Are there Spanish fantasy websites, something like Tor.com etc? Are there any popular authors in your country who can help promote the book? Most importantly. Just write the book. No good talking about publishers if you haven't even got anything worthy of prinitng yet. Believe me, hard work pays off and hidden talent is a rare thing in such a profit obsessed world. If you write enough and are better then anything else the Spanish market can offer, you will sell.

Give me an example of Polish food. I see Polish shops opening up in some areas of my city (I'm in England) but I've never considered Polish to be regarding as such a distinct cuisine to warrant so many specific shops. I presume you can speak fluent Polish as well as English. Do you read books in English or Polish, and what is your preference? And my favourite questions for multi-lingual people. What language do you dream in?

My Epics would be eaten alive in somewhere like Portland It kills me to give them a prime invinciblity and anything close to a strong offensive power. Hence why I don't plan to keep Gunsmoke around much longer. Don't like my own character

Didn't read Astoria sorry

The ruler could activley encourage gang wars to prevent any single group from gaing enough power/influence. The same way Lord Ruler did in Luthadel. Just don't allow any person writing from the rulers POV. Have him/her as a background character.

Argon would indeed make a good ally, cakes on demand would make Malevolence a very happy boy. I'm sure their paths will cross one day. Day one was crazy, day two looks to be going in the same way. Gunsmoke will spend the day taunting the Queens mostly. He knows they cannot kill him, nor can he kill them. He is planning for a stalemate which will give Malevolence time to turn other Queens and find a way to bring down Rainmaker. I've made an edit to my Corvallis post. After re-reading didn't make it clear enough that Gunsmoke was covering part of the city in smoke.

At work bored with not much to do, so I thought I'd write up a new post in the Corvallis thread whilst I got time. Voidus - Malevolence is heading for Cornucopia next, so i'll message you at some point to collab. Might not have time to write a full post until next week though.

Malevolence woke. Before his eyelids had fully flicked open, he was considering breakfast. A helping of chocolate covered cereal swimming in a bowl of chilled milk. A pastry or two, croissants with six different sorts of jam. Four freshly fried sausages, three rashers of smoked bacon and a neatly folded omelette, all reclining on a mound of baked beans. He could picture the early morning feast so vividly that it was a surprise to roll out of bed and find his favourite mug empty. The scent of freshly ground coffee still lingered on the edge of his memory. He swung his feet from under his covers and slapped them down onto the floor. An echo made a short tour of the darkness, bare flesh against cold stone. Beneath his single bed was a basket. A stockpile. A war chest. Malevolence pulled it out and threw the lid open. A week old bagel and half a tub of marshmallow fluff. Scratching his head, he idly wondered where his secret stash had gone. Had he eaten it already? That would have to be first on his day’s tasks, before he even thought about visiting Cornucopia. The devil don’t work on an empty stomach. He shrugged his shoulders and ate the fluff, shovelling it into his mouth with half the bagel. The combination was strange, but it served his purposes. Once finished he had enough energy to get dressed. Ripped jeans, baggy shirt and a headband for his tangle of hair. Today didn’t feel like a hat day. He didn’t know if the outfit looked the least bit fashionable. Despite mirrors dotting the darkness like stars, not one held his reflection. He walked amongst the mirrors on his current island. Each one showed a rainy, miserable glimpse of Corvallis. Rainmaker remained in a horrid mood. He would visit her soon enough. Things were not progressing in Corvallis as quickly as he liked. The Queens ran a tighter ship than Altermind and that horribly civil human up in The Dalles. Corvallis was stable. Organised. A house with everything in its place and any mess quickly swept up. That’s what happens when women run a city. Everything is just too…tidy. Malevolence paused beside a large rectangular mirror that formed a portal to Gunsmoke’s candle lit church. The old man had left a tray of fruit at the foot of his arm chair, just out of Malevolence’s reach. Slontze. Now Malevolence had to decide whether it was worth leaving the protective darkness of the ‘otherside’ for a colourful plate of fruit salad. The small room remained still. The door looked firmly locked. A collection of candles shed their meagre light across the stone floor, but shadows still lingered in the corners. Solid shade. Not the gentle swirl of black smoke. Malevolence took a few more moments to make sure. Those apples did look good, and the cherries sparkled with a sweet coating. He touched the glass of the mirror, it held firm for half a heartbeat before a ripple spread from his fingertip, as if he had touched the surface of a still pond. Malevolence took a breath and stepped through the mirror into the real world. Here he was powerless. Here he was vulnerable. His eyes were quick and paranoid, scrutinising every shadow for some sign of deceit. He moved slowly, testing every step before he advanced. It was ridiculous. Malevolence was an Epic. He shouldn’t be scurrying around like a timid mouse. He reached the plate and popped a grape into his mouth, before retreating back through the mirror with his prize. Once finished and with a belly full of fruit, he turned his attention to Gunsmoke’s request. The old man thought Malevolence could turn Cornucopia against the Queens. He was fool for thinking such a thing. He was a fool for thinking Malevolence had took a side. Gunsmoke pushed the last bullet into his revolvers magazine, he spun it until it clicked shut, took aim and put a bullet through St Mary’s left eye. No thunder, no lightening sent from the heaven to strike him down for his blasphemy. Maybe there were no gods left in heaven. They were all down here, fighting each other for the crumbs of civilisation. The stone statue of St Mary watched him from her place in the pulpit. Her gaze was cold and accusing. Black smoke leaked from her left eye socket, from where the bullet had struck and turned stone to smoke. He raised the revolver once more and emptied the remainder of the bullets into Mary’s head. Smoke rose from what remained of the statue, as if her soul searched for heaven but instead found itself trapped in the rafters of Gunsmoke’s church. Two servants rushed to remove the smoking statue and replace it with another. They struggled with the weight of the statues but Gunsmoke didn’t care. If they weren’t finished by the time he had reloaded the revolver, he would shoot regardless. It had happened before and it would happen again. Humans burst into clouds of black smoke so much better than stone statues. “Sir.” Gunsmoke paused. A single bullet in his palm. He turned to regard a short man with a sweaty brow and nervous eyes. “I’m sorry to disturb your meditation, sir,” the servant continued, wringing his puny hands and watching Gunsmoke’s revolver as if it were some sort of demon. “It’s just that you told me to inform you of any events out in the city.” “Yes?” Gunsmoke asked. The man nodded and swallowed and stuttered. What was the point of leaving a few servants their tongues if they struggled to use them? “Well..it’s just that..” “Spit it out or I’ll have you standing in the pulpit,” he said, pointing to the new statue of Jesus that the other servants had finally struggled into the firing line. Was this human mocking him? Was the man stuttering on purpose, finding amusement in Gunsmoke’s impatience? Was Gunsmoke the laughing stock of the church? All the servants laughing at his back with silent tongues. Rage boiled inside his head and wisps of smoke rose from his cheeks. He pushed the bullet into the revolver. The human noticed Gunsmoke’s anger and quickly found words. “There is trouble in the city, sir. A riot or a rebellion. There are foul things running the streets, biting and eating and ripping flesh.” A tear rolled down the man’s face. “I was keeping an eye on other Epic’s in the city as you asked, sir, with my son. He’s… he’s…” The story was incoherent, but Gunsmoke got the jist. He put a bullet through the man’s head. Smoke leaked from the wound. A trail rising heavenward. The man’s eye glazed over and he began to fall backward. Before the servant’s body hit the floor, it had disintegrated into thick, black smoke. Gunsmoke inhaled, breathing in the aroma of a recent kill. Smoke filled his lungs, flowing through his open mouth and nostrils. It made him feel powerful. It made him feel like God. He smiled. Just as he expected, Corvallis was descending into chaos. Better still, he was yet to make his move. The Arboretum would soon become the focal point of power. As Malevolence said, food is the thing which wins wars, whoever runs out first loses. If Gunsmoke wanted to be King of Corvallis, Cornucopia would be vital. But that was a job for Malevolence. Gunsmoke had other tasks planned. Today was the day he finally stood against the Queens. He turned towards the large wooden doors of the church. They stood closed, protecting the world from his wrath. He took one step and burst into a cloud of black smoke. It made one swirling circuit of the church hall - sweeping over fleeing servants and darkening the stained windows, which shone with morning sunshine – before breaking out of doors and into the streets of Corvallis. He landed lightly in the centre of the street, smoke reforming into flesh and clothes and a revovler in his hand. A group of humans watched him warily from behind a parked car. He took aim and shot the mini-van, inducing the bullet with all his power. It exploded in black smoke. Humans ran, screaming before his bullets took them their backs. Puff. More smoke. A thrill ran through Gunsmoke's whole body. He hadn't unleashed his full might since his first, terrible night as a High Epic. He walked through the streets, emptying his revolver into everything that caught his eye. A tree. A truck. A desterted pushchair. Each time one of his bullets hit an object, torrents of smoke began to pour from the bullet hole. Soon he had blanketed four blocks with a thick, black smog, obsuring all vision in the streets and muffling the panic of terrified humans. Gunsmoke allowed himself a chuckle. His body once again disintergrated into smoke, to drift and mingle with the black cloud that now covered the streets around his church. Citizens coughed and choked. They cried and crawled. A gnetle breeze sent a whisper through the shroud of smoke. Come my Queens.

Your Cornacopia right? Want to collab? Gunsmoke and Malevolence both have reasonable cause to visit Cornacopia.

Ok I get you now. Good luck, sounds like an entertaining read.

Originally I didn't plan to have the Queens know about his existence. But I can work with it. They could have crossed paths before maybe, Malevolence has a tendency to gravitate towards powerful epics just to stir up trouble. He has no ambitions but self amusement. I might write a Malevolence or Gunsmoke post soon. Malevolence's next move would be to seek out one of the Queens for a conversation. Gunsmoke plans to make a play for Corvallis. Anyone have any other big plans for day two in Corvallis? I presume Iconolast will be busy. @Comatose @blackhoof @blaze1616

So from your explanation: The actual bank contains nothing of value. It is just a series of safe desposit boxes/private rooms which contain portals to the actual vaults where items are kept. All you need to activate this portal is the correct key and I guess some form of identification to satifsy the clerks. One of your theives has secured his own vault, where he will keep his personal items of value, but infact this is just a ruse, the theives will actually use this portal as a way into the protected vaults? Spoilered for length. If you can't be bothered reading, here's a summary: Problem: Magic isn't a viable option inside the bank. Solution: Split the theives into two teams. One inside the bank (fighters), one operating in the city (magicians). Both working toward the same goal.

Looks better than Batman vs Superman. Slightly too much Will Smith (I love Will Smith but he is never a good support character). Harley Quinn and Joker are pretty awesome.

The UK covers are so much smarter.

Thought the writing was brilliant. Especially the flashbacks. Dont beat yourself up, I've read through all of the Oregon threads and that was one of the best posts. Right up there with Kochei the Deathless, Backtrack and a few others.

Great advice so far. I'd like to add that (in my opinion) Malazan is a terrible way to do it. Wheel of Time was good, it introduced characters well but suffered from other things (nothing to do with the amount of characters). Stormlight is a good example, a small group of main characters to progress the story and then Bradnon Sanderson used the interlude characters to expand the world. I personally loved every single interlude. I think the best example of multiple perspectives is a Song of Ice and Fire, where I have lost track of the amount of characters but each chapter advances the same story. It is also one of the most complex stories i've personally read. The only tip I can give you from my own writing expereince, is this; introduce characters before you change perspective. It doesn't matter how much you change perspective, some people love it, some people hate it. What matters is constanly introducing new characters that the reader know's nothing about. It takes a few chapters for the reader to really understand and sympathize with a new character. Lets be honest, who instantly found Kaladin an endearing character. He was a depressive slave stuck in a cage, then he was a depressive bridgeman stuck in a barracks. Despite being curious to his past and present predicament, I couldn't care less if he died in his first run. Compare that to a few chapters in, where Kaladin transforms bridge 4 into a team and I really, really, really want Kaladin to survive the highstorm. Building a believable and inspiring character takes time. It doesn't happen in the first few chapters. So if you have a 50 chapter book, with 10 seperate characters. That gives each an average of 5 chapters each. Not long to build anything but the foundaitons of a memorable character. The best way to get around this is split the characters into groups and introduce new character by another persons perspective. For example; Rock, Lopen, Moash and the rest of Bridge 4 are introduced from Kaladin's POV, and we see them enough to get a good idea of their personalities. So if we switch to their perspective, it's it doesnt matter, it's not a completely new character we have to learn to love. This is also how it's done in ASOIAF. George R R Martin intrdouces the Lannisters from the Stark's perspective, then futher into the story we get more Lannister perspectives. Brienne of Tarth is introduced from Catlyn Stark's perspective, then we get loads of Brienne of Tarth POV. etc. I'm not that great at explaining my thoughts. It often comes out in a tangent, like above but I hope the advice helps a little.